


Darling

by sweetbutterbliss



Series: Dream Terrorists [1]
Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012), Inception (2010)
Genre: BAMF Barsad, Bane Likes Romance Novels, Don't Judge Him, Extractor Barsad, Forger Bane, Jealous Eames, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbutterbliss/pseuds/sweetbutterbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is working a job with his ex and Eames just can't handle it. Or Eames acts like a big jealous baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by [Heather](http://haveyoumethoward.tumblr.com/)

"Wait, who's your forger?" Eames asks, with a sharp upturn of his voice.

"Bane," Arthur replies, adjusting the laptop to lie on his side. Eames' face is sideways for a moment until Arthur uprights the screen.

"Bane? As in the terrorist that almost blew you up?" Eames sounds incredulous, his eyebrows rising as they can get without detouring into his hairline.

"He didn't 'almost blow me up,' he saved me. Also, no one got blown up. Do you even listen when I talk?"

"Of course I do, darling. Right now I'm listening to you say that you're currently working with your terrorist ex-boyfriend."

Arthur laughs.

"Are you jealous, Eames?"

"Of course not," Eames scoffs, unconvincingly.

"Right. Anyway, the job's fairly straight forward. It's had to be delayed thanks to the incompetent point man they had before me. I have to wade through pages of completely useless research before we can even do anything."

"Hmm. That sounds lovely, poppet," Eames replies, chewing on his lip as he scrolls through his phone.

"Eames. What the fuck?" Arthur had been looking forward to this Skype date so much that he'd woken up in the middle of the night to catch Eames before he left for his own job.

"Sorry, poppet. But I have to go. Needs must," he makes a distracted kiss face and shuts the call down.

Arthur frowns at the blank screen saying 'call dropped,' and huffs a sigh. He shuts down his laptop and pushes it onto the night stand before rolling over to go back to sleep.

***

There's something about Bane's dream self that's familiar to Arthur, but he just can't seem to put a finger on it. He doesn't have the mask and he's smaller; still really fucking big, but not quite the bag of rocks that he is up top. 

"So this is what you looked like before?" Arthur makes a circle around his own face.

"Before the mask?" Bane smiles, and he's beautiful. Arthur rocks back on his feet and smiles back.

"Yeah."

"I actually do not know for sure. I'd never seen my reflection as an adult, so this is my best guess," Bane shrugs.

"Well, it looks good on you."

Barsad huffs a noise and folds his arms.

"What's the matter with him?" Arthur jerks his head towards him.

Bane laughs and runs his fingers through Barsad's beard, scratching gently. Barsad tilts his head back and closes his eyes like a cat.

"I prefer him as he is. He is beautiful to me always," Barsad mutters.

"It is only in the dream, Habibi."

Arthur looks at his feet, feeling a bit like an intruder. They're so content together, they move almost in tandem and anticipate the other's actions and feelings without even looking. He feels a temporary pang of sadness, missing Eames, before the music starts.

"What is that god-awful noise?" Barsad frowns.

"Ke$ha," Arthur laughs and wakes up to Ari singing and dancing around her models.

"How'd it go?" she asks.

"Good. Bane's naturally talented."

He rolls his sleeves back down after discarding his needle and starts rolling his line. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Barsad and Bane do the same. It makes sense - Bane being able to so effortlessly be someone else in the dream. He's been faceless for most of his life, and is able to mold himself to every cause or situation as required. 

He hasn't seen Barsad in action, but the rumor mill says he's the next Cobb; the best there is in extraction. The rumor mill also says he'll probably go crazy like Cobb too. Arthur doubts that, Barsad is always in control. He would never allow himself get to the point that Cobb had.

He watches Barsad, who looks bizarre without his ever-present sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. Arthur won't pretend that Barsad doesn't have any number of hidden weapons on his person right now, but he looks...smaller somehow. No less dangerous, but smaller. Now that he has Bane, he's warmed to Arthur considerably, sharing dinner with him and flirting in his quiet way.

***

Arthur taps the end of his dry erase marker against his teeth as he stands in front of the white board. He traces the lines and names with his eyes, trying to figure out their best course of action to get the mark alone for the hours they need.

Arthur's thoughts are interrupted by the warehouse door slamming open, and he looks up in shock to see Eames striding through the door, his duffle bag slung across his shoulder. Arthur's immediate reaction is giddy relief, followed instantly by fear.

"Is everything alright?" Arthur rushes to his side.

"Yes, of course, darling. My job got canceled."

"Canceled? The one that you've spent six months working on, just poof...canceled?" Arthur narrows his eyes and crosses his arms.

"Is everything alright, Gattino?"

Arthur can feel Bane looming behind him.

"Yes, everything's fine. Isn't it, darling?" Eames replies with a mean grin, putting far too much emphasis on the _darling_.

"I don't know, is it?" Arthur pushes Eames and calls out to Ari, who's very obviously trying not to laugh, "I'll be right back."

He manhandles Eames out of the door, into the bright sunshine of Brazil, and shoves him up against the warehouse wall.

"What the fuck, Eames?"

"My job was canceled. I thought you'd be happy to see me," Eames toes the ground, his bottom lip pushed out as he stares at his feet.

Arthur groans because he _is_ happy to see Eames. It's been six months of phone sex, and Skype dates, and he feels overwhelmed by Eames' presence. He can imagine how it'd feel to lean into Eames' hard body and have his arms wrapped around him. They could take time off and go lie on a beach somewhere, and just be with each other. The knot of worry he's been carrying around since Eames left is loosening, just from being able to see him in person.

He'd love to ignore the blatant lie that Eames is telling him, and just drag him back to his hotel room, but this is just too ridiculous.

"Of course I'm happy to see you, alive and intact. But you and I both know that the job wasn't canceled. Are you in danger? What's the goddamn deal, Eames?"

Eames blushes and bites down on his lower lip, resembling an overgrown child.

"I just...I couldn't stand it. You here...with him. I just lost it a little bit. I told Mack that I had a family emergency."

Arthur stares until Eames begins to fidget like a bug underneath a microscope. He swallows and gives Arthur a sheepish smile.

"You quit a job that you've put half a year of work into, with a very hefty payout, because you were jealous? Do I have that right?" Arthur asks.

Eames doesn't respond, his shoulders slump and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"You're a fucking idiot. I imagine Mack was furious."

"Yeah, I had to promise a future favor for it," Eames tells him.

"Oh man, you're fucked. You gave him a blank check."

"I know. I'm an idiot!" Eames wails a bit, dropping his head into his hands.

Arthur laughs and leans into Eames, feeling the heat from beneath his shirt. Eames drops his hands and peers up at Arthur, grinning slightly.

"At least I'm your idiot, darling," he wraps his arms around Arthur's waist and tugs him closer. Arthur sighs when Eames kisses him, and he pushes back into it, feeling a sense of rightness, as though having Eames here and touching him slots everything into its correct place.

They're interrupted by someone clearing their throat; Barsad is standing a few feet away, a cigarette dangling from his smirking mouth.

Arthur steps back and straightens his waistcoat with a tug. He refuses to be embarrassed; he's an adult, and frankly, he's seen much worse between Barsad and Bane in the past week. They never stop touching each other and it made his heart ache every time - now he gets to pay it back. Or at least feel better about it because he doubts Barsad truly gives a shit.

"Barsad. This is Eames. Eames, Barsad," Arthur introduces the two men.

They shake hands, but neither smiles or says anything. They're like circling dogs and Arthur huffs a sigh.

"I'm gonna take Eames back to my room, if you'll let Ari know."

"Of course," Barsad nods and grabs Arthur's wrist, tugging him closer and squeezing with a typically dangerous smile.

Arthur narrows his eyes and shakes him off, trying his best to say _don't start any funny shit_ with his glare, but Barsad just laughs, showing his teeth so he thinks it probably doesn't work.

Eames tugs him back with the other arm and Arthur is sure he's going to suffer from whiplash after this.

"Come on," Arthur tilts his head towards the street, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. He needs to get out here.

***

The next day, Eames insists on tagging along because he _misses his darling._

"Right...sure. Just keep your mouth shut. I mean it, Eames. You're not fucking up Ari's job because of some silly, little, jealousy induced issue."

"Psssh. I'm much too secure to ever be jealous, especially not over a great big lump with a hideous steal mouth," Eames sniffs.

Arthur whirls on him, pointing with a threatening finger.

"Look. He's my ex and I don't expect you to be going out for drinks or whatever, but you will _not_ talk shit. He was there when I needed someone, and he listened to me when no one else would. If I hadn't met him it probably would've taken me another decade to realize I wanted you. Besides, I thought you were better then to mock a man for a disability," he hopes this will be the last of Eames' little comments.

What..I...didn't mean..." Eames fumbles over his words and shuts up when Arthur raises an eyebrow at him.

"Fine. I'll be good, darling," Eames changes tactics, shoving Arthur lightly against the door and pushing his hips against Arthur's smaller ones. He bites him on the neck and whispers, hot and wet against his ear, "If I'm good now, then can we be naughty later?"

He steps back and Arthur takes a minute, with his eyes closed and his fists tight, to will his hard on down.

"You're such a fucker," he smiles and kisses Eames before they walk out the door together.

***

"Do not talk to Gattino that way," Bane looms behind Arthur's chair, interrupting their spat, his mechanical breathing menacing in the sudden silence.

"Look, mate, you don't tell me how to talk to my boyfriend," Eames crosses his arms and lifts his chin. He'd only been teasing and Arthur was always wound too tightly when he was on a job. Really, when's he going to learn to stop tilting his chair back anyway? Eames teaches him an important lesson every time he kicks out the legs of one. So what if also he gets intense enjoyment from watching Arthur flail while he rights himself? No good deed is ever entirely altruistic.

"I am not your 'mate'," Bane laughs bitterly. Barsad has sidled up alongside him like a bloody shadow, his hands casually at his side, but Eames knows danger when he sees it.

"Too right you're not," Eames hears himself sounding like a child, but he just can't seem to stop it. He can't back down in front of Arthur.

"That is of no consequence to me. You are not to mess with my Gattino in that way." The _or I will break you in half_ is entirely implied.

"His name isn't fucking Gattino, and he isn't fucking 'yours' either," Eames bristles and steps forward, only to be stopped by Arthur's hand on his chest.

"Go home, Eames," he says, his voice quiet but firm.

"What? You're taking his side?!" Eames pushes against his hand and Barsad steps forward.

"It's alright Habibi, we will let Gattino handle this. For now," he turns and walks away, his little fucking pet following him without a word.

"I'm taking his side because you're acting like an idiot. He's part of the job, you're not. You're just in the way, Eames. Now get the fuck out."

Arthur doesn't raise his voice or even touch him, but Eames can still recognize the danger. He's treading on thin ice and all the bravado melts out of him in a whoosh.

"Yeah. I'll just...I'll go. I'll see you tonight, yeah?" he leans in for a kiss but Arthur cocks his head to the side, so his mouth misses and he ends up kissing air. He sighs deeply and shuffles out, waving to Ari who watches him with pity. Somehow that makes it all the worse.

He goes in search of a pub, knowing that the only cure for an embarrassing situation is to get too pissed to remember it. 

***

Arthur is testing out the dreamscape when he feels someone enter it. He turns, seeing Bane, and smiles.

"What're you doing here?" he asks. He enjoys it when they can spend time down in the levels. They have unending talks about philosophy, and dreamscape theory, and one time even about Talia. Bane's projection of her always shows up as a child, dressed in rags and clutching a worn teddy bear. Arthur feels his friend's pain, but the talks remind him of the moments of peace they'd had together in Gotham. There isn't anything sexual between them any more. Not even a hint; it's as though it had run its course or, more likely, had been channeled into their current partners.

"I do not regret you, Gattino. For you were the detour that brought me to my true love. Thank you for that," Bane had told him previously, during one of their deeper exchanges.

Arthur had nodded and, without even having to say it aloud, Bane knew he felt the same way.

He doesn't know why Bane is here now, though. First of all, Arthur is lying in his hotel room and he doesn't think Bane would break in for no reason, and second, he usually doesn't wear his mask in dreams, choosing to use the face he's made up for himself.

"Gattino. I just wanted to see you," he reaches out and pulls Arthur up into his arms, pressing him against his broad chest.

"What..." Arthur struggles against his grip and pushes him back.

"Isn't this what you want?" the voice flickers into a different accent.

"Eames," Arthur says flatly.

Eames lets the forge go. He's smaller and just as beautiful; his arms covered in tattoos that Arthur knows every story behind, has traced with his tongue, and even come all over just to see the contrast. The man he loves, and knows he'll spend every last minute of his life with. But right this minute, he wants to kill him.

So he does.

***

When they wake, Arthur angrily yanks the lines out of their arms, not bothering to be gentle, leaving a bloody trail in Eames' forearm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Arthur hisses, shoving him across the room.

"I don't know," Eames wails, sounding a bit helpless.

Arthur pushes him again, furious and out of control. It feels good to let the anger out and Eames is allowing him to. So he pushes and pushes until Eames stumbles back over his open duffel and goes sprawling across the floor. He looks bewildered and not a little hurt.

Arthur pants and pretends not to care; Eames has brought this on himself. He gives a hand to Eames to help him stand up again.

"You have every right to be mad. I'm acting like an idiot and embarrassing you," he looks at his feet.

"I'm mad because you don't fucking trust me, Eames. I don't know why you think I'd betray you. That's what fucking hurts, that you just assume I'd fuck you over," Arthur chokes a bit and stops talking, pressing his hands over his eyes and talking slow, even breaths.

"I didn't even think of it like that. I just got jealous. I thought maybe you'd want someone better."

"You know what's not sexy, Eames? Being an insecure asshole," Arthur tells him.

"For Christ's sake. Look at me! I'm a scrawny git compared to him, and I've heard you talk about him, you have all this awe and respect for him and I'm just here...a normal guy who...I just thought you'd see him again and realize you made a massive mistake with me."

"Look, you fucking idiot. I love you. You're the person I want. No one compares to you," Arthur sighs and pulls at his hair. "Now you have me quoting Sinead O'Connor, you twat. I think if _you_ have so little faith in us, then we have bigger issues than Bane."

Eames just gapes at him.

"I'm going out. I'll see you later," Arthur grabs him by the back of the neck and kisses him. He tastes like tears and stale beer. Arthur rests his forehead against Eames' and says, "I love you. That's all I can tell you. I just hope you can believe it."

He gives Eames a little shake and leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him.

***

Bane is reading a paperback that has a half naked man, and a woman falling out of her dress, on the cover. He finds them amusing and Barsad gets equally endless amusement out of it, attempting to find him ones more ridiculous than the last. Bane's favorites are the 'historical' ones; he likes to read the most inaccurate parts out to Barsad who shakes his head and laughs while cleaning his weapons.

"Bane."

Bane puts down his book and looks up at Eames, the brash, irritating Englishman that is not nearly good enough for Gattino. It's taken every ounce of willpower not to lecture Arthur on his potential. The potential he is wasting on this charming fool. He doesn't respond, merely waits for Eames to speak.

"I need your advice."

"On?" Bane rests his hands against his brace, and the chair squeaks under his weight as he leans back.

"Arthur. I've made an idiot of myself."

Bane nods and doesn't argue with him.

"I love him. And I may have ruined it."

"What do you require from me?"

"I just...I don't know. You know him, and he respects you. And you and Barsad seem to have such a good thing," he runs his hands through his hair.

"It's not so simple. Barsad and I work at it, and we give each other space. Most importantly, we trust each other. You have to let Gattino do his own thing. He is a kitten with very sharp claws. He will only scratch you if you try to hold him too tightly."

"But what do I do about it now?"

Bane shrugs, as Barsad steps silently out of the shadows.

"Apologize."

"Bloody hell, we need to get you a fucking bell! Apologize, is it that easy then?"

"Arthur loves you, the way that I love Bane. If you apologize sincerely I'm sure he will forgive you."

"It can't hurt right?" Eames laughs, a little bitterly.

"No. It cannot," Bane agrees. "But know that if you hurt him in any way, we will kill you."

"Right. Cheers," Eames swallows.

"He's gone to meet with our client. Little Ariadne does not inspire as much confidence as Arthur in his expensive suits and murderous scowl," Barsad grins happily at the thought.

"Would you like to wait with us?" Bane asks, before picking up his book again.

"The Devil's Embrace?" Eames reads upside down. "Sounds fascinating. I read one recently called 'Virgin Mistress, Scandalous Love Child.' It was disappointingly short, to be honest."

"You must allow me to borrow it some time," Bane replies, flicking the next page.

"Naturally," Eames grins, rocking back on his feet.

***

When Arthur returns from the meeting, he finds Eames playing chess with a laughing Barsad whilst arguing good-naturedly about the the merits of...romance novels. He thinks. There are mentions of 'heaving bosoms' and 'outrageous historical inaccuracies.'

"Hello?" he drops their bags of lunch on the work table and frowns at them.

"Darling!" Eames leaps up and rushes to Arthur's side. "Can we talk please?"

"Were you just arguing about romance novels with Bane?" he asks, confused as Eames leads him back out the door.

"Yes, he's actually quite delightful. He knows virtually everything about so many different things! It's a bit dizzying to be honest."

"Okay. So you're friends now?" Arthur shakes his head at Eames' sudden change of heart.

"Noooo. I wouldn't say friends. A begrudging respect on my part and a refraining-from-beating-me-senseless on his."

"Alright," Arthur says faintly, feeling off balance.

"More importantly. I'm sorry. I was a daft cunt and I know it. I love you so much that I just lost my head," Eames' version of an apology is almost amusing.

"Eames..."

"No let me finish, love. Please," he pauses, waiting for Arthur to interrupt, and when he doesn't Eames continues.

"I know it isn't an excuse, and I can't promise I won't ever be jealous again. I mean, look at you...that's a promise I can't keep. But, I can promise not to act like a fool and that I'll always trust you." 

"I love you, too. I can't do this though. If you do something this impressively idiotic again, you don't get a second chance. Do you understand me?"

"Yes. I do. I promise I won't. Truly, darling. Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah. This time," Arthur sighs and nods. 

"Also, if it makes you feel any better, Bane has told me in vivid detail how he'll hurt me if I hurt you. Again."

Bane? Fuck that, Eames. I'll hurt you if you hurt me again. I may not have the size but I make up for it with creativity and a lot more knives," Arthur smirks.

"You know, it really shouldn't turn me on so much when you threaten me with bodily harm."

Arthur laughs and kisses him, hooking his fingers through Eames' belt loop.

"How about we take the day off? We can go lie on the beach and drink ridiculous blue cocktails. Then we can go home, and I can fuck all the stupid out of you," Arthur raises a suggestive eyebrow.

"Yes. Please," Eames whispers against his mouth and kisses him back, before stealing his keys out of his pockets, but not before 'accidentally' groping him in the process.

***

Bane and Barsad laugh as they hear the other two tell Ariadne they're taking the day off.

"Habibi, shall we follow their lead?"

Ariadne sighs and shoos them away, muttering about needing a girlfriend.

They don't spend time at the beach, but they do spend the rest of the day locked up in their hotel room. It feels right for them.

***

A month later, a box arrives on their doorstep with no return address. Barsad opens it cautiously and immediately bursts into laughter. Inside the box are at least a dozen new bodice rippers for Bane. Bane laughs through his mask when he looks over Barsad's shoulder, and begins thumbing through them while Barsad smiles at him fondly. A note drifts out onto the floor - 

_"Thanks for help with my darling."_


End file.
